


High Like Treble

by nunwithgun



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car Sex, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22415713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nunwithgun/pseuds/nunwithgun
Summary: A devious, highly self-indulgent thought comes to mind. “So it's your uncle’s limousine, then?” Dorothea can’t deny that she takes a bit of delight in the way Edelgard swallows, hard, at the implication. They’ve both come to the same conclusion.“Seems to me like a perfect opportunity to make up for some lost time.”——Alternatively, it's a thirty-five minute drive to Edelgard's red carpet event and Dorothea hasn't seen her in months. You do the math.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 14
Kudos: 187





	High Like Treble

Edelgard is always ten minutes early, and for once Dorothea is grateful for that habit. She has to admit she feels a bit odd, all dressed up in her gown and shawl and heels, just waiting on the sidewalk to be picked up by one of the country's most influential women.

Her mentor, Manuela, waits with her at the door of the apartment building. It’s more the fact that she’s spent all day in rehearsals and needs a smoke break rather than to talk with Dorothea, but she’s happy for the company nonetheless. "How long has she been gone, again?" Manuela asks through the cigarette between her lips.

"Two months." Dorothea's a bit shocked to say it aloud. It's been hard, being apart for so long. It was even harder not being to meet Edelgard at the airport, their schedules too muddied to ever really line up if not for specific charity and red carpet events like they one they are set to attend tonight. "It wasn't like we didn't keep in touch, though. She called almost every day, when she had the time."

“I swear,” Manuela sighs, taking a long drag before she continues, “how you landed yourself such a catch is beyond me.”

Dorothea cracks a smile, because sometimes she’s not quite sure herself. “If knew how I got so lucky, I’d give you advice.”

“I don’t know how you two do it, either. Being on the down low and all.” Manuela steps closer to her, helping to straighten the shawl across her shoulders as she speaks. “Especially when you wear _that_ thing around.”

Dorothea glances down at the ring on her finger as soon as it’s mentioned. It’s not gaudy by any means, a simple design of overlapping wings studded with black jewels. At first glance, it’s hardly even notable among all the other jewelry Dorothea loves to wear. The fact that it sits on the third finger of her left hand and alludes to the family crest of the woman she loves is the true giveaway. 

“The power of being ‘very good friends’ with another woman is a lot more than you’d think, Manuela. Friendship rings are all the rage, you know.” Dorothea winks for emphasis, the exact way she would feeding such a line to any reporter nosy enough to ask.

Maneula’s nose wrinkles. “Does it bother you?”

Dorothea scoffs. “Should it?”

Manuela simply shrugs, dousing her cigarette against the bottom of her shoe. “You’re practically marrying into royalty, and you can’t shout that to the world. That’d bother me, for sure”

“Fame is fun when I’m singing on stage. Not as much fun when I’m trying to have a personal life with a woman I love,” Dorothea points out. “It’s better this way. Just enough speculation to feed silly rumors while keep everything at bay.”

“If you say so,” Manuela murmurs, eyes trailing the limousine that rolls to a stop in front of the apartment building. “I suppose that’s my cue to take off. Don’t have too much fun without me, dear. You know we have rehearsals again tomorrow.”

“I know, but no promises.” Dorothea laughs when Manuela rolls her eyes, but gives her a hug regardless. The older actress takes one moment to look her protégé up and down, nods in approval, and heads back inside.

The woman that steps out of the driver’s seat of the limo stretches, long and slow. She sighs at nothing in particular, looking entirely unfitting of the chauffer’s uniform she wears. Indeed, she seems better suited for activewear, or perhaps even the slick suit of a bodyguard’s outfit with the way her arms seem as if they just might burst from the jacket at any given moment. Tonight, her job lies elsewhere, it seems.

“Good to see you again, Ladislava!” Dorothea chirps, throwing up a wave as she makes her way towards the back door. She knows it’s the older woman’s job to open it for her, so she makes sure to beat her to the punch.

“Glad to see you, Miss Arnault.” Ladislava smiles back at her with a tip of her cap. “I should probably give you fair warning that she’s been passed out in the back seat nearly the whole ride over. Good luck waking her.”

“I appreciate the heads up, then,” Dorothea says as she finally gathers her dress in her hands to climb inside the car.

Sure enough, Edelgard is fast asleep. For someone so powerful and confident, she looks so small when she’s curled up into herself, dozing away with her head resting against the window. Dorothea can’t help the stupid grin that crosses her face at the sight of it. She slides closer, taking her fiancé’s chin in her hand and pulling her in to press a kiss to her cheek.

Edelgard’s eyes flutter open with a groan of protest, and she blinks against the newfound light overhead. When her vision adjusts, she glances up at Dorothea and smiles. The way Edelgard leans in to kiss her, without a second thought, is slow and sweet.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Dorothea murmurs against her lips.

Edelgard chuckles. “I don’t think you know how badly I’ve missed waking up to that.”

Dorothea leans back to give her fiancé room to sit up and fully join the land of the living. “The feeling is mutual, though I don’t quite miss the drooling.”

Edelgard turns away quickly, then, wiping at her mouth as her ears go pink in embarrassment. “I apologize. It’s been a rough week, to say the least.”

“How late were you up last night?” Dorothea slides closer as she speaks, cupping Edelgard’s cheek in her hand.

“Mm, about three in the morning, I think.”

“Goddess, Edie.” Dorothea knows she should’ve expected as much. Edelgard never has been one for reasonable sleep schedules. “Then don’t let me interrupt you. We can catch up later tonight, after the event.”

Edelgard shakes her head. “The ride over was a good enough nap, for now. I’ll live.” 

Dorothea frowns her disapproval at her, but she knows that trying to make Edelgard von Hresvelg slow down enough to sleep is a lost cause. She surrenders in that regard, choosing instead to look around the limousine and take in the grant sight. “This car is fancier than normal isn’t it?”

“My uncle insisted we take it.” Edelgard’s expression sours immediately as she speaks of the unfortunate relation she has with Volkhard von Arundel. “Sometimes I think he does these things on purpose to make me look like a royal ass at these charity events.”

Dorothea hums in understanding, glancing about the car curiously. Indeed, the limousine is a sight to behold, and she’s certain arriving in it will spark at least two or three tabloid articles. She hates that for Edelgard, particularly when she’s a woman who’s done so much good for charity in the world. She’s nothing like her last surviving relative, and it irks her that he tries his damnedest to remedy that fact.

A devious, highly self-indulgent thought comes to mind in the midst of her frustration at Volkhard. Dorothea smirks, sliding her hand to the inside of Edelgard’s thigh and pressing against the muscle she finds there. “So it's your uncle’s limousine, then?”

“Yes, that's what I just—” She pauses, cluing in just then to the devilish glint in her partner’s eyes. Dorothea can’t deny that she takes a bit of delight in the way Edelgard swallows, hard, at the implication. They’ve both come to the same conclusion.

Dorothea draws closer, nails sinking in as she tightens her grip on her fiancé’s leg. “Seems to me like a perfect opportunity to make up for some lost time.”

Edelgard says nothing, her poker face immaculate even when Dorothea’s face is mere inches from her own. The starlet grins, taking Edelgard’s bottom lip between her teeth and tugging until she finally catches Dorothea's chin in her fingers. Dorothea relishes in the feel of those leather gloves pressing against her skin.

“What’s on your mind, Edie?” she asks, voice barely a whisper as their lips brush together.

Edelgard hums thoughtfully in response. “The fact that we've got a thirty-five minute ride in this traffic.” She pulls her closer by the chin, mouths meeting at last in an open-mouthed kiss that she strings out to the point of utter frustration. “And that you’re doing a damn good job of convincing me, anyways.”

Dorothea pulls her fiancé’s hair free from its ponytail, running her fingers through pale locks and trailing kisses from her temple down her jaw. Edelgard cracks the slightest hint of smile, picking up the intercom. That same smile quickly vanishes when Dorothea traces her tongue around the shell of her other ear. Edelgard stiffens under her touch. Her jaw goes absolutely rigid.

To her credit, Edelgard keeps her cool and any unseemly noises under tight control. “Ladislava?”

“Ma’am?” Ladislava's voice crackles across the intercom immediately, though her eyes haven’t left the road the whole trip.

“I’m going to—” Edelgard breathes out in a sudden huff, careful to avoid the phone’s receiver as Dorothea takes the skin at the crook of her neck between her teeth. When she’s composed herself, she tries again. “I’m going to roll up the partition. Ring me when we’re there.”

Ladislava says nothing, but Dorothea swears she can hear the slightest hint of a mutter on the other end before she simply says back, “Of course, ma’am.”

The second the glass slides shut, Dorothea has her pressed up against the tinted window beside them, straddling the businesswoman in an instant. Edelgard smirks up at her, unfazed at the way Dorothea’s legs squeeze around her waist in urgency. “How long has it been?”

"Edie," Dorothea warns her, knowing they have little time to waste as she leans forward to capture her mouth in a heated kiss.

Edelgard laughs a bit when they break for air, fingers digging into Dorothea’s thighs when she presses her further against the seat. “So I take it you missed me while I was on my trip to Faerghus?”

She’s toying with her, nipping at her patience and Dorothea knows it. She bites right back. “Edie, I love you. Dearly. But unless you want Ladislava circling the block, it’s time to cut the small talk.”

“I thought about you. A lot. Missed you next to me at night.” As irritating as she’s trying to be about things, Edelgard can still only manage fragments and quick words in the space between their lips. Dorothea takes a bit of pride in that, or she _would_ if Edelgard didn’t continue to grin at her own antics and yammer on through their kisses, “The pictures. Ones you sent. None of them do you justice—”

Dorothea has her fingers laced into Edelgard’s hair by this point, and when her patience has finally run out a sharp tug there pulls the shorter woman’s head back so their gazes meet again. “Fuck. Me.”

Edelgard laughs, and it comes out in an airy tone quite uncharacteristic of her usual confident demeanor. The look in her eyes darkens, though, and it seems the admonishment has her through with being difficult. “Yes, ma’am.”

Dorothea’s very much glad she’s finally caught the businesswoman’s focus, because it’s only a matter of seconds before Edelgard takes the lead. Her lips trail across Dorothea’s jawline, dipping to the crook of her neck to pay attention there that Dorothea loves. She arches into Edelgard at the first press of teeth against her skin, a strangled gasp leaving her lips as she tries her hardest to keep the moan that rises in her throat under wraps.

But Dorothea has never been one for keeping quiet, and unfortunately Edelgard knows as much. The businesswoman slides her hand across Dorothea’s bare thigh, pads of her fingers dragging but feather-light all the same as she goes. Dorothea can’t help the next moan that escapes her as she untangles her hand from Edelgard’s hair, moving to pull her dress up further. The smaller woman is quick to catch her wrist. “Stop. Not yet.”

Many a tabloid had written of Edelgard von Hresvelg, CEO of Hresvelg Industries and notorious “control freak”. If only those that wrote about her knew that infuriating, yet stupidly alluring trait makes it all the way into the bedroom.

Dorothea isn’t complaining in the slightest in that moment, though. Quite the opposite, with her hands now finding Edelgard’s shoulders as the woman bites down again, _hard_ , and finally wrenches such a cry from Dorothea that the starlet prays to the Goddess that Ladislava has her radio turned up. Edelgard quickly makes up for it with a gentler kiss to the area, Dorothea’s skin now tingling with the touch. She barely even registers how Edelgard’s free hand has found the strap of her dress.

She does notice the quick tug there, Edelgard’s own way of asking for permission despite it all. Dorothea nods and whispers her agreement. Edelgard’s lips turn up to a smile at the skin of her neck in response.

The strap slides easily down over her arm, baring Dorothea’s chest to the cool air of the limousine. Edelgard’s mouth cuts a path from her fiancé’s neck to her collarbone, leaving no place untouched by teeth and lips alike. Dorothea arches into her further, the space between them shrinking until they’re nothing but a hot mess against each other.

Edelgard’s lips are always such an effective distraction, so much so that the feeling of her hand brushing across the peak of Dorothea’s breast surprises her into a sharp gasp. She’s taken off her gloves, thank the Goddess, because Dorothea thinks otherwise she’d go mad at the friction when Edelgard carefully rolls her nipple between her fingertips.

Dorothea tries her best to shift to one side, straddling her fiancé’s thigh now and lowering herself just enough to find the pressure she needs there. As expected, Edelgard’s quick to hold her hips still with an iron grip, and before Dorothea can protest there’s a mouth at her breast to make up for it.

Frustration and pleasure burns through her all the same when Edelgard’s tongue runs across her nipple before her teeth take its place. It’s unbelievably fun to test Edelgard, to push and tease at that control that she values so much. It’s especially entertaining when the reward is Edelgard doing everything in her power to set the pace, to slow it all down and keep the starlet right where she wants her.

What used to be a hurdle in their relationship has become a game of theirs, and one that thrills Dorothea, at that.

“You’re impatient,” Edelgard growls against her chest and Dorothea feels her core tighten at the sound of it. 

“You’re one to talk,” Dorothea shoots right back. And she knows she’s right, because she feels Edelgard moving against her, drawing closer to the leg that Dorothea now has placed in between her own.

Edelgard relents to the accusation, fingers trailing inwards from their place on Dorothea’s hips until she’s up under her dress. The businesswoman hooks them in her underwear next, sliding the garment down her thighs at that same stupidly tantalizing pace. Dorothea sucks in a breath when she feels a palm slide against her clit for the briefest of teases before Edelgard decides it’s time to shift positions.

Despite all her previous dominance, Edelgard lays her down as gently as possible across the seat, even pausing a moment or two to revere the starlet sprawled out before her. Dorothea can’t help but snicker, running her foot up the inside of Edelgard’s thigh and posing as best she can. She’s quite the sight, and she knows as much from the way Edelgard’s eyes travel her disheveled self. 

Dorothea grins. “You’re thinking about saying something sentimental, aren’t you?”

“How can I not?” Edelgard breathes, and for a moment she really does seem quite star struck. The distraction is fleeting, though, and suddenly the businesswoman is hovering over Dorothea, hands braced on either side of her head. “The woman I could only dream about for months is finally underneath me.” Her voice drops and with it comes her thigh between Dorothea’s legs.

Dorothea grinds into her without hesitation, letting the tiniest whimper spill from her lips before she struggles to gather her composure once more. “Any other time I’d—ah, hell, Edie…” She sucks in a deep breath and tries again, the balancing act of keeping her focus and keeping her hips in motion a little harder than expected after months without anything like this. “I’d let you smother me to death with pretty words, but we’ve got somewhere to be, don’t we?”

Edelgard smirks at at her frustration and pauses for a moment, likely content to let Dorothea just grind against her leg until she’s begging, pleading, _whining_ for release. But yet again, their lack of time wins out. 

All pomp and circumstance is gone as Edelgard’s hand slides between where her thigh and Dorothea’s hips meet. Dorothea gasps when she finally feels it, that pressure against her clit, Edelgard’s fingers making contact at long last after what’s felt like endless teasing. Dorothea rolls in to the touch, and it immediately pulls away to taunt her.

Oh, _now_ she’s frustrated.

Dorothea wraps her fingers around her fiancé’s tie, pulling the smaller woman closer so that they’re nose to nose. The way they crash together in a kiss once more is fierce, a bit sloppy but Dorothea hardly minds. The starlet sinks her teeth into Edelgard’s bottom lip, pulling her closer and relishing in the way she struggles to catch her breath in the meantime.

She clenches her hands in the back of Edelgard’s shirt when she feels her fiancé’s fingers back where she needs them most. Dorothea’s fingernails dig deep and she drags them across her shoulder blades in slow, agonizing motions. Her touch won’t draw blood against the stark white of Edelgard’s dress shirt, but she’s sure—she _makes_ sure—that there will be angry red marks to take pride in tomorrow morning.

Edelgard _groans_ , lips pressed to the shell of her fiancé’s ear and Dorothea thinks she might just ascend at the noise. Between the renewed pressure between her thighs and the way the smaller woman has started panting, Dorothea honestly wonders how she’s ever survived a single night alone and without this. 

“Edie…” Dorothea’s voice is more a breath than a whisper as she calls her name. She arches closer to Edelgard when she feels her fingers slip inside, stroking at a slow and steady pace that has the starlet writhing underneath her. Dorothea doesn’t even get the chance to ask her for more—faster, _harder_ —because Edelgard’s setting that pace all on her own.

Her back sticks to the leather beneath her, Edelgard can only manage to fit one leg on the seat and it’s awkward and it’s raunchy and Dorothea _doesn’t care_. Not in this moment, at least. Not when she’s close, not when Edelgard’s whispering in her ear how beautiful she looks like this, how gorgeous she is.

“When we get home, you’ll look even prettier,” Edelgard tells her, “when you’re bent over my desk.”

Dorothea’s shrill when she comes, but that much is nothing new. Edelgard’s quick to cut off her cry with her own mouth, working her through it all slowly, catching her as she comes back down with careful touches and gentler kisses as she goes.

The attention is spellbinding. When Edelgard pulls her fingers away and purposely wipes them on the seat beneath her, Dorothea’s so lightheaded that she actually giggles. Edelgard’s face lights up at the sound, and it doesn’t take long until she’s chuckling in response. 

“Yeah?” is all she murmurs, finally pressing her lips to the starlet’s in a kiss so kind it’s almost jarring in comparison to the roughness of only seconds ago.

“Yeah,” Dorothea says, and she can’t help but smile as she pulls Edelgard closer, fingers running through her white locks with a gentle touch in return. But again, time is short, and it’s not long until she’s got her hand planted on Edelgard’s chest, pressing her back so she can sit up and finish the job. “Let’s get you taken care of, shall we?”

Dorothea pulls Edelgard’s back flush against her bare chest, breathing out across her neck and earning a shudder from the smaller woman. “Is this alright?” she murmurs, moving to run her lips across the curve of her fiancé’s jaw.

“More than alright,” comes the reply as Edelgard reaches a hand back to find its way into Dorothea’s hair. The starlet grins and takes a quick nip at her ear before she gets to work.

Goddess, does Dorothea ever love when Edelgard wears suits. She knows it’s not for her, much more for the respect and attention they command in the industry so often dominated by menswear. But she can pretend that Edelgard puts them on imagining how they’ll be taken off, because that’s sure as hell what Dorothea thinks of whenever she looks her fiancé up and down.

Dorothea’s quick to lay her hand flat across the bare skin where Edelgard’s dress shirt has ridden up, and Edelgard is quick to jolt at her touch. Her other hand quickly finds its way upwards, undoing button after button at a snail’s pace that Dorothea knows Edelgard finds frustrating as hell. She considers it payback for the stalling that came before, and her fingers work slow and deft motions at each bit of skin that’s unveiled before moving higher.

Edelgard, now the victim, is quick to hurry things along and shrug the shirt off her shoulders. Dorothea makes a note to tease her for it later, but obliges and runs her fingers across her fiance’s breast with a delicate touch. Edelgard hisses out a breath through gritted teeth, fingers tightening in Dorothea’s hair as the starlet manages to slip underneath her fiance’s bra.

Dorothea slides her other hand down, daring to let it dip below Edelgard’s belt, but only barely. She hears the businesswoman growl something underneath her breath as Dorothea begins to shift deeper, her fingers running through coarse hair and finding slickness at last.

“And you say I’m the impatient one,” Dorothea whispers in her ear.

Edelgard shudders, a hitch in her breath as she feels Dorothea begin to work out a rhythm against her. “Sometimes just seeing you like that is enough to drive me up the wall, Thea.”

Dorothea smiles against the bare skin of Edelgard’s shoulder, pressing and toying with her chest in the meanwhile. “I’ll take that as a ‘thank you’ for all the nudes I sent.”

Edelgard doesn’t reply, this time. Her eyes are screwed shut, mouth slightly agape and moving against Dorothea’s hand like she hardly needs any help. Dorothea’s by no means insulted, though. That just means that the reaction Edelgard gives is that much more entertaining when she finally moves even lower, fingers slipping inside with absolute ease.

“Fuck...!” Edelgard’s choked whisper sends a thrill up Dorothea’s spine, and she knows she’ll treasure the rare expletive for weeks to come. Dorothea curls her fingers against her, taking a moment to bask in the noises she’s able to draw from her fiancé with slow, steady strokes.

Edelgard rocks forward on her hand to pick up the pace, and with how worked up she is Dorothea knows she’s not going to last long. She has a feeling Edelgard doesn’t mind all that much, though, especially when Dorothea presses deeper and rougher with each motion. It’s strangely endearing to Dorothea how focused she is, as always. Edelgard moves with purpose, eyes firmly shut and shortened breaths where whines are being held back. She’s poised, controlled, and intent. Dorothea works her hardest to undo every bit of that with the thrust and curl of her fingers.

“Dorothea...please...ah, fuck!” Her knuckles turn white and she goes stiff against Dorothea’s chest. She’s crashing over the edge, now. A low groan escapes her and she’s only able to cut it short by biting at the back of her hand. It’s no grand spectacle of screams and moans, but being able to see Edelgard von Hresvelg lose even the tiniest bit of control in the heat of the moment is the hottest thing the starlet could ever ask for.

Dorothea does her best to work her through it and down from it, lips pressed to the space behind her ear and breath hot against her fiancé’s skin. It’s unfortunate they have so little time on their hands, because the way that Edelgard’s bare back presses and rubs against her chest is more than enough to have her worked up a second time. When Edelgard finally goes limp, falling back against Dorothea’s with a heavy exhale, the starlet almost almost considers trying to coax one more climax out of her.

“We’re here, Miss Hresvelg. Pull yourselves together.” Ladislava’s voice over the intercom makes them both jump apart, and Dorothea feels a bit guilty for the way she wrenches her hand away in the process. Edelgard falls sideways on the seat, barely managing to keep from tumbling to the floor of the car.

Now’s the time to panic. Edelgard scrambles across Dorothea’s lap, eyes darting left and right to try and make sense of the mess of clothes they’ve made. “Goddess, where’s my shirt?”

Dorothea’s just sliding her ruined underwear back on when a sharp knock on the window sends them both jumping out of their skin once more. She glances over at Edelgard, motioning at her to stay to the front as she slides back towards the door to answer. Dorothea rolls down the car’s window just a crack to come face to face with the exact glare she feared would be on the other side.

Hubert’s eyes immediately find the angry pink teeth marks trailing down Dorothea’s neck. His brow creases sharply. “Of course. Is she... _decent_ , at least?”

A grin pulls at the corner of Dorothea’s lips as she does her best to untangle her tousled hair. She’ll just be wearing it down for this event, she supposes. “Define ‘decent’, Hubie.”

“Why in the name of—” The publicist stops himself just before the imminent cursing. He closes his eyes and pinches at the bridge of his nose in frustration, forehead pressed to the window glass to try and find a brief moment of respite. Their entrance is up next, though, and he’s quick to remind them that they have no time to waste as he stalks away.

Dorothea chuckles to herself and turns back to the woman of the hour, who has since found her shirt and is using a towel from the bar to wipe at the red lipstick smeared across her face. She makes her way over to Edelgard’s side, licking her thumb and trying her best to help with the smudges that run down the side of her neck.

“I’m starting to think that you _meant_ to wear that shade,” Edelgard grumbles, motioning to the stained and damn near ruined towel in her hands.

Oh, she most certainly did. But Dorothea just smiles and winks, pulling aside Edelgard’s shirt and pressing a kiss to the ridge of her collarbone. There’s a bit of teeth, a hold over for what’s inevitably going to come when they get home, and she smiles at the way Edelgard twitches underneath her. 

“Should’ve worn a scarf, darling,” the starlet teases, admiring the last red smudge left for a moment longer before buttoning the shirt over it.

They manage to get presentable in just enough time, Edelgard finally fastening her belt as Hubert pulls the door ajar and sticks his head in. The publicist’s sigh of relief is as immediate as his glare was minutes earlier. “Maybe there is a Goddess, after all,” he murmurs dryly, and Dorothea does feel a twinge of guilt for making him worry. If Hubert of all people, is even bothering to jest of the Goddess, she can imagine he’s been scared half to death.

Dorothea slides towards the door first, pulling the edges of her shawl above where the telltale markings begin on her neck. She doesn’t think they’ll bruise (well, _most_ of them, anyways), but she’s determined not to pull the center of attention to gossip at a charity event. She makes her exit gracefully, and Edelgard is quick to follow behind. They are quite the sight despite it all. Edelgard gives off an air of utter authority as she straightens her collar, stepping up onto the sidewalk like she owns the entire venue. Dorothea sticks to her side but is a force all her own, looking like she's practically been born for the public eye and flashing smiles at the reporters up ahead.

They don’t even make it to the bottom of the stairs before Hubert moves to step in front of them both. “Your neck.” The publicist's tone is as flat as ever as his eyes lock on the top of Edelgard’s collar.

Dorothea throws an arm around the smaller woman, using the shawl across her shoulders to hide the ugly purple blotch from view when the cameras start to flash. She feels the warmth that rises to the back of Edelgard’s neck in embarrassment and shame, but the businesswoman is more than practiced enough to keep it from showing in her expression. Instead, she dons that signature stone-faced look that the public knows so well.

“How much would you love me if I told you I’ve got some make-up in my bag and that we can fix it when we get to the bathroom?” Dorothea leans to murmur in her ear as they start up the steps to the front door.

“I love you, regardless of what you can offer to save my dignity,” Edelgard mumbles back, hiding her mouth and the blush on her cheeks behind a gloved hand as she speaks. The counterpart to the ring on Dorothea’s finger glimmers there, lending truth to her dry words. “But also...quite a bit.”

**Author's Note:**

> Beyonce’s “Partition” is hot and car sex is hot and that’s all I have to say on the matter. Follow me on my main twitter @nunwithgun or my nsfw twitter @nunwithsingun if u agree


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